


Nine In The Morning (the I'm Your Walking Disaster remix)

by geckoholic



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Blow Jobs, Domestic Fluff, Fluff and Smut, Lazy Mornings, M/M, Oral Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-10
Updated: 2019-06-10
Packaged: 2020-04-24 06:13:40
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,051
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19167445
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/geckoholic/pseuds/geckoholic
Summary: Keith refuses to leave his warm, cozy blanket cocoon. Shiro has to get persuasive to get him out of bed.





	Nine In The Morning (the I'm Your Walking Disaster remix)

**Author's Note:**

  * For [kirinokisu](https://archiveofourown.org/users/kirinokisu/gifts).
  * Inspired by [nine in the morning](https://archiveofourown.org/works/2345156) by [kirinokisu](https://archiveofourown.org/users/kirinokisu/pseuds/kirinokisu). 



> Hope you're happy with the work I picked for the remix! You allowed remixes from other fandoms into Sheith, and the original ficlet just spoke to me. :D
> 
> Unbeta'd, so all remaining mistakes are most definitely mine.
> 
> Title is from "Joy" by Bastille.

Keith carefully wriggles just the toes of one foot out from under the cover and frowns, quickly pulling it back into his warm, cozy bubble. He's cocooned in a comforter and a woolen blanket on top, and he very much needs both to ward off the unforgiving cold. He rolls onto his stomachs and nuzzles deeper into the pillow, set onto ignoring the world outside of his cocoon for the foreseeable future. 

Except, he's not supposed to be alone in said cocoon. When he fell asleep last night, Shiro was there with him, now he's not, and that ought to be investigated. He sighs into the pillow and extends one arm out of the cocoon, feeling around for Shiro's body on the mattress. Maybe he had to get up in the middle of the night and didn't want to disturb Keith, so he got more blankets and built his own cocoon. 

But Shiro's side of the bed is empty. Keith is briefly alarmed. He peers from under the blankets, and with his ears not covered by fabric anymore either, he can here someone puttering around in the bathroom. Ah. Good. There he is. No need for concern. 

Keith is just about to see if he drift back off for another half an hour or so when something cold and wet touches his arm. He yelps, nearly jumps out of his skin, and launches into a tirade of colorful curse words the second his lungs are done seizing from the shock and the cold. 

He hears Shiro chuckle and lifts his head from out of the cocoon for the sole and expressed purpose of leveling a seething glare at him. “What the _hell_ , Shiro.” 

Shiro doesn't reply. Instead, he trails his cold and wet fingers up Keith's arm again, making Keith shiver – and not in the good way.

Keith whines Shiro's name, but all that gets him is a kiss from equally cold lips, lightly pressed to his wrist. He tries to pull his arm away, but Shiro doesn't let him, his other hand wrapping around Keith's biceps. A short struggle ensues, at the end of which Shiro's laughing and Keith gets his arm back into the cocoon, but not without having had to let the blankets drop to his shoulder. He clutches them closer, fully prepared for Shiro to try and pull them down further. 

Of course Shiro doesn't do him the favor of being quite so predictable. 

The blankets lift at Keith's feet, and cold fingers, now a little bit less wet, dance up his bare calves. Keith whines again, part plea, part insult, and kicks. But it's no use – Shiro has gotten far enough to fold the blankets back, exposing Keith's legs to the cold air. Goosebumps spread immediately, the sensation almost painful. And Shiro doesn't call it quits there either; he slips underneath the covers with Keith, those cold hands wandering up his inner thighs, and all of a sudden Shiro's lips are brushing the fabric of Keith's briefs. Warm breath puffs out right over his dick, and it's a good kind of shiver that runs through Keith when Shiro's hands peel back the fabric of his briefs to mouth directly at velvety skin of his growing erection. Keith moans and reaches down, blindly, for the outline of Shiro's shoulders under the heavy blankets. 

Shiro's tongue laps at the tip; he keeps his hands away from Keith's crotch and that makes the blow job messier but also somehow _better_. Keith's dick is still halfway trapped within his briefs and so Shiro's mouth closes only around the head, his tongue playing with the sensitive cluster of nerves right under the head. On instinct, Keith bucks his hips up, but he's stopped short by cold fingers low on his stomach. 

Keith sucks his lower lip between his teeth, grabbing fistfuls of the sheets with both hands, but he obeys. His feet find purchase on the mattress and he pulls his knees up to give Shiro more room. The small ministrations are wonderful, but they're not enough, and maybe if he'll put his hands someplace warm for a moment he could – 

From one moment to the next, Shiro emerges from underneath the blanket and grins up and Keith. “Time to go. We'll be late.” 

Keith blinks at him, confused. “Time to... what? We'll be late for what?” 

Shiro holds his gaze. “Wedding dress shopping with Allura.” 

“Oh.” Letting himself flop back onto the bed, Keith covers his eyes with one arm. “C'mon. It's too cold. You can't possibly expect me to leave this bed right now and _go outside_.” 

“I can,” Shiro says. “And I do.” 

His hand briefly disappears back underneath the blankets to tickle the inside of Keith's knee. Keith curses him out once more and sits up, legs folded underneath himself, pouting. 

Then he has an idea. A tradeoff. 

“I'll get up,” he suggests, “if you finish what you started.” 

Shiro pretends to weigh his options, taps his chin with his fingers. “Motivational orgasm?” 

Keith nods eagerly. “Yeah! I promise I'll get up and be a nice little bridesman afterwards.” 

Nodding, Shiro inches closer. He breathes into his palm a few times and then reaches back into the cocoon. He pulls Keith's briefs further down and takes him in hand, stroking gently. Keith closes his eyes and moans, hips swaying in synch with the slow, languid rhythm Shiro's setting. Just a little bit more, a little bit faster, he doesn't have to last or hold back – 

Shiro lets go of him, and while Keith's still reeling to pull himself back from the brink of a slow-rolling climax, spluttering helplessly, Shiro gets up and holds a hand out for him. 

“We can finish this in the shower,” he says, feigning a stern expression. “Saves us time as well. Come on.”

Keith knows he's being played, has been coaxed into leaving the bed by Shiro from the start, but his body has discovered a new set of priorities that has nothing to do with the cold. And so he throws the blanket back, shucks his briefs all the way off, and marches into the bathroom, sticking his tongue out to Shiro on the way. 

Shiro just shakes his head, pulls his t-shirt over his head, and follows right after him.

**Author's Note:**

> Find me on [dreamwidth](https://geckoholic.dreamwidth.org/), [tumblr](http://lostemotion.tumblr.com) or [twitter](https://twitter.com/spacenerdz).


End file.
